


we might as well lay down and die

by marvelleous



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Celebrations, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, New Year fic, Not as morbid as the title sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 04:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13206414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelleous/pseuds/marvelleous
Summary: It’s a child’s drawing he realises, depicting two stick figures, one very clearly a woman, if the black lines coming out of her head are supposed to be hair. Their stick hands are joined, and there are wide smiles on their faces. The top of the page is decorated with colourful scribbles, short lines forming circular patterns, but he doesn't clue into what any of it means until he notices the flask-like shape drawn between the two figures.Or the one where it takes a little girl's prophecy to push Phil to take the step he's been afraid to all these years.





	we might as well lay down and die

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Happy birthday to Stinis :)
> 
> Title from Happy New Year by ABBA.

Even after all they had done for the world, in the name of protection, no one would ever truly understand the magnitude to which their actions impacted the lives of all those on earth.

It was easier before, when their duties consisted of covert operations, targeting terrorist organisations like Hydra and monitoring the occasional gifted individual. S.H.I.E.L.D. was always designed to be that way,  to deal with problems before they even came up, to keep secrets about things that were deemed too strange to be conceivable for the rest of society.

They were supposed to be spies, not soldiers.

Then they were forced into the shadows, given no choice but to continue to operate with limited resources and a bounty on their heads, feared and hated by the very people they were still dedicated to protecting. Mistakes were a frequent occurrence, given the choices they had to make with very little time to truly consider the repercussions of their actions, and as a result, they do unleash horrors upon the world, leaving all of mankind in a panic. Had they been more cautious, maybe Hydra would not have had a chance to latch onto them like a virus, multiplying in the darkness, completely unseen. If they had taken just a moment to clear their minds after the events on the Iliad, they could have contained, or at least minimised the terrigen outbreak before it began.

Hive, AIDA, the Framework, all could have been prevented had they done something, had they been careful, accepting a slower method of solving their problems, rather than rush in and start a chain of events that by all means, appear to be endless. But the thing is, even after the problems they have caused, the issues that have escalated due their action or inaction, they find a way to make things right.

They save the world because they are the shield.

It doesn't matter whether or not they are recognised for their accomplishments, for that has nothing to do with their dedication and loyalty. Each and every single one of them is content with this life in the shadows, knowing that at the end of the day, they have played a part in protecting those that cannot do it for themselves. They're a band of misfit heroes, completely unrecognised, but they remain together for the same reasons, even if they didn't set out with such things in mind.

Of course, things are a little different when they're all together once more, back on earth, after what feels like a lifetime of pain and agony. After a series of catastrophic occurrences piled on top of one another, like falling dominoes, until they find the finish line.

At this point, they all just need a break. Phil, well, Phil really, really wants that break. From the day that he signed up, his loyalty towards S.H.I.E.L.D. has never changed, never wavered, but it's been a rough year, and they all deserve time off.

A lot of it.

But a little vacation time is better than nothing at all.

 

* * *

 

He's the last to leave.

They have a makeshift base in another old SSR facility, but this one is by far more run down, and the little supplies that were stored there decades ago are long past their use-by date. It doesn't matter though; what they needed most was a place to hide, somewhere they could just hit pause for a minute, because as much as time has caught up with them, they haven't had a chance to catch up with anything else. They're fugitives, but that's not a new development. It's almost insane to think that after all they have sacrificed in the name of good, that they should be prosecuted for their actions.

But that's the way the world seems to work now, given that Captain America himself has been labelled a war criminal, it's no surprise the organisation that was inspired to continue his work is suffering the same fate. There are no second chances, to give up intelligence, trade secrets for their freedom, but Phil knows that none of his agents would do so. They would give their lives to the service of S.H.I.E.L.D, like he had, like Melinda had.

Her death had only been one of the several horrible events to take place within the last twelve months. He and Fitz were trapped in an alternate dimension, and then Melinda had been kidnapped, and then they all were, by a crazy android who locked them in a virtual reality, and now none of their minds are quite right. Jeffrey Mace died a hero. They'd escaped one prison for another, fought their way out and destroyed their captor, but not without paying a price.

He had a particularly hard deal to live up to, but he was prepared for that. What he wasn't prepared for was being forced into the future, with his team, to prevent an apocalyptic event that had not yet taken place in their time. Fighting to get home was hard, but being ripped away from his team once more to pay up his end of the bargain with the Ghost Rider was one of the most difficult things he had ever done. They would survive without him there, but the need to protect them had always been strong, and it was hard leaving without a goodbye.

Phil wasn't afraid this time.

He knew exactly when he would be able to return, and it was only a matter of surviving until that moment arrived. His team were not shocked by his return as he had expected, only relieved that he was back, asking surprisingly few questions about his adventures.

They were all tired, no, exhausted, from all of their ordeals. The adrenaline from their fights against evil seeped away, leaving behind weary bodies and weary souls. He had no doubt that they could save the world again in a heartbeat, that they would do so if required of them, but it seemed that the universe was finally giving them some reprieve.

The tranquillity is almost unsettling, like the calm before a storm. Like something big is coming, something that might tear the earth apart, much like they had seen in a future that no longer existed. But they have some semblance of peace now, and Phil suggests that they split up, go their separate ways and enjoy their time off, that they would be called if anything came up. He knows they can't just go home, because they're wanted criminals, that Daisy has no one but them to turn to, but sometimes a little distance is good for the mind.

So he stays behind and watches them leave before he heads off himself, with no real destination in mind, feeling a little empty inside.

 

* * *

 

His apartment in Colorado is under a fake name, and it’s where he heads after visiting his childhood home in Manitowoc. It's his hope that no one will track him there, and for the first time in years, he learns how to live like a normal person. Well, relatively normal. He hides from his neighbours and always ducks his head, concealing his face with sunglasses when outside, but he cooks every meal for himself, does chores, watches the television.

It's nice for the first week.

After that, he's only reminded of how lonely he is, how little here is in his personal life because he's been so busy with S.H.I.E.L.D. all these years. He doesn't regret it, because he's seen the life he would have lead had he made another choice, and he much prefers this one, but he can't help wishing for something to happen so he can see his team again.

So he can see Melinda again.

She’s been on his mind, a lot more than usual, which is saying something, because there’s always at least a tiny part of him that thinks of her. They've known each other for so long, and aside from S.H.I.E.L.D, she was the one constant in his life. The only person he can truly count on.

He has no idea where she is, and despite his inclination to seek her out so they can finally sit down and have a proper conversation, he fears his presence may not be desired. She had lingered during her departure, staying to bid the rest of the team goodbye, offering him a tight-lipped smile before vanishing into the night, leaving an empty space by his side and an empty place within his heart.

Now, sitting alone in his unfamiliar apartment, it hits him harder than ever. His purpose in life is to serve, to protect others, and as much as he needs a break from it, both physically and mentally, he finds it much too difficult to cope in an environment so mundane. It's stupid really, because this is what they have always been fighting for; a little peace in the world, to create a place where people can roam free without fear.

He’s grown so used to chaos and disaster that he almost doesn't know how to live without it. The thing is, after he comes to such a realisation, pinpointing exactly what it is about this lifestyle that is so uncomfortable for him, it gets a little easier. It's not that he's hoping for a disaster to occur, only that he's having difficulty adjusting to a new routine after three decades of constant action and little rest.

Phil knows logically that it's normal to feel this way, and he copes. He buys a tiny plastic tree with built-in lights, and all the ingredients for a celebratory meal, because for the first time in so long, he's able to celebrate the holiday season. When he downs a beer on Christmas Eve, watching the snow falling outside his window, he makes a little toast to himself, because against all odds, they've survived.

Though no one knows it but them, they saved the world, and that’s worth something.

 

* * *

 

On the twenty-ninth of December, Daisy shows up at his door, a hesitant smile on her face and a backpack in one hand. He doesn’t ask any questions, stepping aside to let her in, and locking the door behind them. She looks happier, less burdened than when he saw her last, and that brings him more comfort than he can describe.

He prattles on aimlessly while whipping up grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, and it isn’t until after they’ve eaten that Daisy reveals to him the purpose of her visit.

“I’ve been moving around a lot,” she tells him, and he isn’t surprised, knowing she’s never really had a place to call home. He understands that, because he feels the same way, though if the saying is true, and home is where the heart is, then his home is out there somewhere. Two thousand miles away, if he is to make an estimate.

“You’re welcome to stay here.”

He has very little to offer, but a place to stay, somewhere safe, is still something he can provide for her. She doesn’t respond for a moment, a flash of surprise crossing her face before she can conceal it; a technique she hasn’t quite mastered from her mentor.

“There’s a spare room and I provide three meals a day,” he adds, hoping it might change her mind. Having someone to talk to might make things easier, and if Daisy is here, she isn’t out there alone somewhere, in danger. She’s a fully grown adult who is more than capable of protecting herself, but he can’t help but want to keep her safe. He said once that she was the closest thing he had to a daughter, and the same feelings are motivating him now.

“I might take you up on that offer, but there’s somewhere else you have to be.”

She hands him a folded up piece of paper, as if the contents will explain all the questions he now has for her.

It’s a child’s drawing he realises, depicting two stick figures, one very clearly a woman, if the black lines coming out of her head are supposed to be hair. Their stick hands are joined, and there are wide smiles on their faces. The top of the page is decorated with colourful scribbles, short lines forming circular patterns, but he doesn't clue into what any of it means until he notices the flask-like shape drawn between the two figures.

_A bottle of Haig._

“I paid a visit to certain a little bird during Christmas, and she insisted I take this.”

He nods, a little absentmindedly perhaps, wondering just how many speed limits he’ll have to break to make it to Pennsylvania in time, factoring in the one stop he’ll have to make along the way to pick up a gift he more than owes. The crayon drawing gives him hope though, that this future is a possibility, and he's on the road within an hour, leaving behind a set of keys for Daisy and the feeling of despondency that has lingered since they all parted ways.

 

* * *

 

It's New Year's Eve, and Melinda is sitting alone in her childhood bedroom, grateful for a little peace and quiet. She knows that if she had chosen to visit her father, he would have company over, friends to ring in the new year with.

Her mother likes the solitude just as much as she does, and didn't bat an eyelash when she disappeared after dinner, wanting some time to herself.

There’s a lot on her mind, a plethora of thoughts are related to her career, and whether or not returning to such a life is worth all the pain and suffering. She could leave it all behind, settle into an ordinary life and not live with the constant and imminent threat of death. Her father was right though, that she would never stop looking over her shoulder for danger, that she had lived that way too long to lose those habits.

The conflict isn't only within her mind, but also her heart. She’s grown rather fond of her team throughout their adventures together, developed relationships with them that she isn't ready to just let go of. There’s also the matter of one man in particular, one man who she hasn't stopped thinking of since the moment she saw him last.

She misses Phil more than ever.

Even the mess their lives have been throughout the past yet, she could always rely on him to be there for her. She doesn't blame him for her kidnapping, or not realising she had been replaced for a robot replica. It wasn't his fault that she had difficulty expressing her feelings. She wishes she had stayed with him, that they were together now, as friends, or the possibility of something more.

It's confusing to her in a way things generally aren't.

Because she's okay with the way things are, doesn't mind if they remain friends for the rest of their lives. She wonders if she’s being greedy for wanting more, but she has no control over her desires. There’s a sense of longing that she’s always felt, but more intense than ever, and she’s so lost in her thoughts that she almost physically reacts when there’s a banging against her window.

She wonders if she has lost it when she sees the one person that has overtaken all her thoughts. Either she’s gone insane, or Phil Coulson has scaled her mother’s house to knock on the window of her second-floor bedroom in the middle of the night.

“We have a front door,” is the first thing she says as she helps him climb in, quickly shutting the window afterwards to keep the cold air out.

“I didn't want to disturb anyone.”

He looks so awkward, standing in the middle of her room, and she snorts, realising that even after all these years, he's still afraid of her mother. She doesn't say anything in response, simply beckoning him to sit down with her on the edge of her bed, wondering what on earth possessed him to pay her a visit like this. He takes off his heavy winter coat, carefully lowering it to the ground beside their feet. She looks at him; he's strangely silent too, and she feels all the things she wants to tell him on the tip of her tongue, secrets threatening to spill.

She can't do it though, she needs to hear what he has to say first.

“Why are you here?”

He laughs, and it's that soft, self-deprecating laughter that she hates, because he's worth so much more than he’ll ever understand.

“I missed you. I knew I would, but I didn't realise how that could make me feel. I've finally had some time to think things through, and… I still can't quite figure out where it went wrong with us. You're my best friend Melinda, and I've loved you for longer than I can even remember. It shouldn't be like this between us, we should be happier.”

He looks so tormented, and it's exactly the same feeling she has about their situation.

“I guess I know why I've held onto these words for all this time, because I was always so afraid of losing you, losing what we already had. You mean everything to me, and we've had so many close calls in the last twelve months, so many moments where I could have lost you forever. It made me realise that whether or not anything happens between us, you deserved to know the truth, about how I feel. I… I wanted, no, I needed you to know.”

He falls silent after that, and she allows herself a moment to process her thoughts, to truly consider what she wants. It's stupid really, because she’s known all along what it is that she desires, who she wants by her side in any situation.

“I missed you too,” she says instead, because she can't find the words to express how she truly feels. When she turns to face him, she sees an emptiness in his eyes that cuts through to the deepest part of her, and wonders if he’s mistaken her response as a gentle brush off.

He can't possibly be so foolish to think she doesn't love him, after everything she has done for him. All the choices that were made so she could be beside him, protecting him.

She watches carefully as he reaches into his discarded coat and pulls out and all too familiar bottle, a twin to the one they had been saving all that time.

“I know it's not the same, but I still owe you this,” he murmurs as he hands it over. She turns it in her hands, running her fingers over the label, when she feels him shift and stand, as if ready to leave.

For a moment, she considers telling him he's an idiot, but she thinks it's all too possible that he’ll take her seriously. She walks over to her desk, setting the bottle down, before moving to stand beside him. He's lingering, clearly not ready to say goodbye, and she never wants to see that heartbroken expression on his face again.

“I think that at this point, we’re way past a bottle of whiskey,” she whispers, allowing the confusion to cloud his eyes for only a moment before she pulls him down towards her, pressing a firm but chaste kiss against his lips. He looks a little shocked when she pulls away, but quickly regains his senses, a wide smile forming on his face.

“I love you.”

She thinks he says it just because he can now, and it surprises her just how much she likes hearing it, the words so genuine, bringing her more joy than she has ever felt before. He kisses her, a little more hesitant than she had been, gentle pecks against her lips until she fists her hands in his jacket and draws them closer together.

They tumble into her bed together as the clock strikes midnight, and she feels the fireworks between them as she hears the loud cracks sound in the sky, casting a multitude of colourful lights upon their bodies as they finally find what they have been searching for their entire lives.

Each other.

 

* * *

 

When Melinda goes downstairs for breakfast the next morning, leaving Phil asleep in her bed, she finds that the table has been set for three, her mother already sipping on a cup of coffee with her usual disapproving stare.

“You are lucky that I had earplugs.”

She feels an unfamiliar heat rising on her cheeks as she walks quickly back to her room, locking the door before climbing back into bed with the intention of never leaving. It might not be such a bad thing, she muses, as Phil wraps an arm around her in his sleep.

 

* * *

 

Daisy actually cheers when they return to Phil’s apartment in the New Year. She takes one look at them, sees that they're holding hands, fingers interlocked and everything, and squeals in excitement, reminiscent of the girl they had first met all those years back.

They convince her to stay, and it goes unsaid that they're a little misfit family that is better together. There's no telling how long the peace will last, and all they can do is enjoy it while they can.

She tears up when they give her a gift they had picked up on their way back, even if she is a little perplexed by it.

Why on earth would she need a pair of noise-cancelling headphones anyway?


End file.
